The Wanderer
by Lycan Lover
Summary: Modern era! Not all elves left for Valinor after the war of the ring, some remained to watch over what was left of Middle Earth and it's occupants. In the modern world they live very different lives, mingling with our own discreetly. Yet for one woman she finds hope and friendships whilst a time-weary elf finds that man kind has not been completely lost to the darkness. EDITED!
1. Prologue

**So this is my first time trying an LOTR fanfic… let's see where it goes! I'm a HUGE Tolkien fan so this could get interesting. I had some inspiration for the Hobbit films with this one, especially with some of the characters such as Thranduil, some serious writing practice but this was mostly made for fun. So enjoy! (Will most likely be edited later)**

**Sadly, most of my other fics (Harry Potter and such) are on hold until further notice. (sorry )**

**DISCLAIMER – I own nothing…. Except my computer….yep…**

**The following places are based off REAL PLACES! (mostly) **

* * *

**The Wanderer**

**_Prologue_**

_So spoke the wanderer,  
mindful of hardships,  
of fierce slaughters  
and the downfall of kinsmen.  
__(The Wanderer, Anglo-Saxon poem)_**_  
_**

* * *

"Why do you linger when there is nothing left?"

The question echoed off the grey stone walls yet the footsteps made not a sound, the lightness of the steps suggested a cautiousness that put the occupant of the room on edge. He was weary, worn down by ages yet filled with a sense of worry that something was misplaced, his eyes, grey as the moon, were cold and distant, reflecting this. The glass of wine in his hand, balanced carefully between his fingers, gave off a rich, fruity scent that usually distracted him. But not today.

"I have made my choice," he spoke quietly. "Never have the gulls' cries moved me, nor shall they ever. I am needed here still." _Is this to convince you or myself?_

One quick gulp of his wine was enough to say his resolve for the time being. The visitor moved to the book shelf, running a hand over the finely carved chair that sat nearby. He had noted that the sylvan still had yet to turn his gaze from the window over-looking the moorland.

"For what pray tell? Your promise is fulfilled, you need not stay." His robes whispered as he moved, daring to go a little closer to the sylvan. "The world is changed. Men come from the northsea, east and south taking what the please but then our time is over. The time of the Eldar is done, and home is calling from across the sea."

Yet he did not move. The room grew quiet with only the clang of metal from the courtyard. He saw warriors dressed in mail and helm carrying his banner and colours. The fight would end swiftly but still blood would be shed on the good earth_. Arda has need of me yet._

"Very well, I can see that no matter what I say your will cannot be swayed now," the dark haired ellon sighed heavily. "But Thranduil, it is a lonely path you tred."

The sylvan gave a sad smile and finally turned to face the visitor, noting his fine robes were hidden under shining armour, his plated helm held under one arm. "As it has always been, Peredhel. As it should be." He inclined his head in a dismissive manner before turning back to observe the scenery below.

Elrond, once Lord of Imladris, turned away without a sound. _"Novaer_," he spoke, the finality in his voice brought Thranduil out on his reverie. He watched the group on horseback leave for the road without a glance behind.

_And so ends the age of the elves. _

* * *

_Why does is always rain? _She thought as a second spot of cold water his her cheek. Several similar specs had already hit her phone screen which displayed a poor quality map. The woman quickly pulled up the hood on her coat, fearing that the oncoming shower would damage her careful appearance. _Can't show up to an interview looking like a beggar that's been dragged through a swamp now can I?_

She chuckled at her situation; having spent for too long attempting to look presentable here was in the middle of a woodland following a (apparently to Google) non-existent road. Supposing she had been luckily thus far, having managed to get a taxi to bring her all the way out into the English countryside of the West Midlands as far as the end of the main road. From then on she had been walking up the dirt road.

_I wonder if I'll get there before dark. Darn! I need to go shopping for dinner too. _

"Is this the place?" She stopped abruptly at the sight of a large house at the top of the slopping hill. A large iron gate lit by small lights marked the end of the toad. "Must be, a giant house in the middle of the woods he said, it'll be a cinch he said. _Pfft!_ When I get my hands on him I'll wring his neck!"

She put her phone away in her pocket and stared up the road towards the looming building that was nothing but a shadow ahead. _Looks like something out of that Downton Abbey show on tv._ She looked down at her now muddy shoes and cheap black trousers, feeling undressed for such a place.

"Well, come on feet!"

* * *

**_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think :)_**

**Elvishness explained!**

Ellon – male elf

Novaer – farewell, be well


	2. Chapter 1

_**~Chapter 1~**_

_Often the solitary one_

_Finds grace for himself_

_Although he, sorrow-hearted_

_Must for a long time_

_Tread the paths of exile._

* * *

She stood a few feet from the main gates, admiring the intricate detail of the iron ivy leaves that swirled and coiled in front of her. This was Aqualate Hall. Her perspective work place. The strange call she had received from a good friend of hers in the middle of the night had puzzled her. Times were... difficult, should we say, and his ardently hints at a placement opening up within the prestigious Aqualate Estate was just too good an opportunity to turn away from. Her research had told her that the owner of the estate was one of the directors of a large company who dealt with livestock, trade, natural resources and above all else _horses_. Even though she had not been looking for a job in that area she had been reeled in, left tossing through sleepless nights thinking on the consequences of her ignoring such an offer to get paid for living her dream.

She breathed a heavy sigh. It had begun to rain lightly, dark clouds gathering above creating quite an eerie atmosphere. She resisted the urge to gulp. Taking one step towards the buzzer and then another, she felt her anxiety rise.

_Geese, get a grip! It's just a job interview, nothing scary or dangerous. Surely? _

"Mind ya'self!" a voice called out from behind her. Somehow in between her inner battle she had missed the sound of hooves hitting the dirt road and the deep chuffs of the horse that raced towards her. The rider seemed less than impressed be her silence as she jumped to the side to let the horse pass. He looked like a middle aged man with a beginnings of a brown beard on his chin. On the horses back sat two full saddle bags and he had a rifle of some descripted slung over his shoulder.

She diverted her gaze for a moment as he dismounted roughly to the ground and jabbed the buzzer, speaking quickly into the microphone. With a large creak the gates opened slowly. The man looked back to her with a curious look.

"Ya comin' inside?" he slurred. "Or ya jus' tresspassin'?"

"Please! I- I'm here to see Lord Theodore Beauchene? Um, I have an interview with…" she rummaged through her bag trying to find the letter with shaking fingers, unsteady under his hard stare.

"The Lord ain't in."

She blinked a few times before urging forward. _I've come too far, worked myself up too much just to back down and leave!_

"But I have the letter! He said he'd see me today." Still continued to ignore her as he dismounted, pushing the rifle further onto his shoulder. She felt the sudden weariness from missed sleep catch up with her, adding to her dismay.

"Wha's ya name missy?" Her head shot up at his voice and noted how he had already begun to lead the horse through the gates.

"Uh," she followed uncertainly after him. "Kilmeny Lance."

"Jack Thorns," he said without turning to her. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing about his demeanour. He seemed like the rough, land worn type. "I'm the game keep'a 'ere."

"Please to meet you."

She followed him across the large courtyard, around the decorative hedges and down a cobblestone path around the back of the grand house. From what she could see from that angle it was grand indeed! She counted five chimneys and more windows than fingers and toes on her body on the Victorian styled building. It was nestled in amongst the trees that stretched for miles. She tried to see an entrance or perhaps the main door but it was so vast seeing anything was difficult. They passed through a second gateway and all the time Jack remained silent. _Not the talkative type, eh?_ She thought to herself, glancing around at the immaculate grounds. Kilmeny focused on the horse ahead of her; a dark bay mare with strong hind quarters. Her coat she noted was shiny and the hooves nice and clean. They obvious took good care of their horses. So, she wondered, why did the need someone like her? _Ah, but I desperately need the cash. Student finance won't wait forever!_ She sighed earning a glare from her guide.

As they turned to corner and continued down a narrow path back into the woodland she caught the familiar sounds of clopping hooves and playful neighing. The smile automatically sprung to her face for the first time that day. The stables were situated in an open glad where the afternoon sunlight hit streamed through the remaining trees. Several heads poked out of them to see who the new visitors were, one nickered to the dark bay who answered back and her ears swivelled excitedly.

Ahead two figures were standing over by the wall of a building on the opposite side, talking animatedly or perhaps arguing over something, clearly neither wished to back down. Jack abruptly stopped and gave a heavy sigh before gesturing with a nod of his head to the two men.

"The taller one be Gareth, he's ya man." And with that said he and his horse left down the path towards the stable block. She watched him leave and that looked to the figures, one of which was apparently the man who she had received a phone call from after hearing her recommended by a friend. The taller man was wirier than the second who had greying hair and wrinkled hands. The one called Gareth, she noted, had long mahogany hair tied back into a low ponytail and a clean shaven face. Throwing together her courage she marched forward catching only pieces of their conversation.

"- care how much you pay me Gareth, I'm not retiring anytime soon I tell you!"

"Please, you misunderstand me. I'm not asking you to retire for good, just relieve some of your duties to those who are younger and more able to -".

"Ah! You see! You think I'm getting to old, past my prime you do!" Kilmeny glanced between the two and raised her hand trying to gain there attention.

"Excuse me?" she tried but was ignored. She coughed loudly, enough to catch the long haired man's attention at least. He stood startled and turned to her with a tight smile. She smiled back, hoping to appear charming, somewhat. "Sorry to interrupt but my name's Kilmeny Lance, I'm here for the open position? I have an interview at two with Lord Beauchene but I'm afraid I got a little lost."

"Ah, Miss Lance," he replied, recognition showing on his face. His voice was smooth and pleasant sounding as he turned to the older man and gestured. "Welcome, I trust you had safe journey?"

"Yes, thank you." _He seems pleasant enough_.

The older man grumbled and eyed her from top to toe, folding his arms. It caught Gareth's attention at least, enough for him to send the man a stern scowl and threw his hands into the air.

"There's no hope for you is there? Aidan's son will be coming to help you prepare for the feast whether you like it or not so would you not at least try to cooperate?"

"I don't need any help, I've been groom to my lord for over 40 years without so much as a stable hand for help, goddammit!"

"Really, give the poor boy a chance, man!" Gareth implored but he was having none of it. Arthur huffed once more and went on his way back towards the stable buildings grumbling to himself. Gareth muttered a few incoherent words under his breath and turned back to her with an apologetic smile.

"You must forgive me, Arthur finds it difficult to move with the times you see and there is so much to do as of late."

"It's no problem, don't worry about it. I've met worse," she gave a shaky laugh. He began to walk down a second path which she presumed led back to the house, gesturing her to follow.

"I'm afraid the Lord is busy presently, but he has trusted me to see to the matter of your placement."

"Oh." She replied in a small voice.

"Come into house and we can get you settled."

"Um, settled in? What about the interview?" she asked to his back, seeing the grey walls of the main house come into view past the trees. He remained facing forwards as he spoke to her.

"Your interview ended 47 seconds ago." He glanced back to see her shocked reaction and paled face. "Don't look so worried! You passed by simply turning up today; all of your paper work checked out well enough and your recommendation by Mr. Rhys was more than enough to earn you a place within the corporation it seemed. However, I feel I must apologise for not informing you sooner of the meeting arrangements."

"Huh?"

"I know it may seem sudden but the directors take their business very seriously. They will all be meeting here the day after next for a _traditional get-together_ you might say." He turned to glance over at her, "What will you be requiring from your home for a weeks stay with us?"

"A week!" she squeaked.

"There's matter can sometimes take a few days to solve, and with your coming to the company I'm certain that things will take at least that time to introduce you properly to our ways. Hmm, is everything alright?"

"Yes," she said with a shaky voice. _What have I gotten myself into? Correction: what has Eric gotten me into?_

"Indeed, I think you will fit in well in here," he said genuinely whilst closing the door behind them. "I must apologise once more for this but it cannot be helped. Please excuse the mess." The room they entered appeared to be a large sitting room with a small television in the corner. It was a quaint room, it felt cosy and homely. There were various paintings on the walls of flowers that looked hand painted. She was too busy looking around to notice her new colleague had already entered through the door on the left. She quickly hurried to catch up only to catch herself on the next door.

I opened into a large and airy kitchen with beams hanging from the ceiling. He stopped abruptly and waved to someone through the larger main doorway. A slim woman entered holding a vase of white roses.

"A visitor already?" she questioning, giving the man a raised eyebrow look.

"My dear this is Miss Lance, she was misinformed about the time and arrangements."

"Oh, please, Kilmeny is fine. I'm afraid I can't really shorten it down to anything else or else I would," she interjected, rubbing her freshly bruised shoulder.

The new woman had a kind face and when she smiled the sunlight seemed to illuminate her. Her hair, shorter than Gareth's, ending at her shoulders was a deep auburn colour which contrasted her green eyes. Kilmeny automatically felt welcome around her.

"Welcome then, Kilmeny. My name is Vanessa," she even went as far to bow her head slightly. Kilemny resisted the urge to salute and tell her to 'carry on'. Gareth placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, she noticed the way he held such a fondness for her in his eyes.

"Vanessa is Head Chef of Aqualate, our daughter works as her assistant, so anything you need you simply have to ask."

_Wait, daughter?_

"So you two are married then? Why that's lovely!" she exclaimed. The thought of them as a family just seemed right in her mind. The looked so good together. _Vanessa sure is pretty, but then again so his Gareth in a manly sort of way. Guess Mum was right after all; beautiful people attract other beautiful people. _

Gareth chuckled at her grinning but his wife seemed in a state. She placed the vase carefully on the side board and began wiping her hands on the apron she wore.

"But there are no rooms prepared yet. Oh, and the dust sheets in the dining room have not yet been taken away! Please excuse me." Then the women was gone through the doorway, not a single sound of shuffling clothing or footsteps could be heard.

He watched her go and shook his head. Then, turning is attention back to Kilmeny, gestured for her to look through the window out onto the gardens.

"The grounds here are quite extension so you should be weary of getting lost, but there are plenty of others here to help you should you lose your way." Suddenly a strange, almost sad look passed onto his face. "I would be very careful though," he continued, "about crossing paths with Lord Beauchene of late."

"What do you mean?" she asked. He was not the first to warn her of the Lord of Aqualate. Eric during his phone call about the job opening had almost told her about the infamous Lord Beauchene:

_"Huh?" _

_"Just be careful how you tred with him. Theo should be fine with you as long as you remember that he is master there." _

_Kilmeny snorted down the phone. _

_"He sounds like a tyrant to me with his temper tantums and rank systems." _

_Eric gave a shaky laughed and a sigh. _

_"Well just be yourself, alright? And..." there was a brief pause down the line, "we need to have a talk soon as well. Theo's holding a party, I'll be there. Why don't you see if you can meet me there?"_

_"You know I don't have time for parties." _

She trusted Eric with her life. If he said that she was safe here then by god she was safer than a rabbit down a ten foot warren. She had known him since the start of university; he was a master's student at the same place and immediately latched onto her. She smiled at the memory of those times. But Gareth's voice brought her attention back to the present.

"Just as a said, the lord is not too fond of strangers entering his home even when they have been vetted by a close friend already. So please be mindful."

She felt a little hurt by the suggestion that she might offend her employer so readily but kept it to herself.

"I will, be careful that is."

"Good," he walked with towards the centre of the main house, "Now, is there anything you will need for your stay?"

* * *

The next day Kilmeny had already packed her essential belongings; the best clothes she had, toiletries etc. Though she went woefully unprepared, most of her clothes for the law few years had been jeans and t-shirts. With a final check around the place she felt a pang of sadness as the taxi drove away from her flat in Chester. She brought it for the amazing view at night time across the city. The lights appeared to mimic dancing fireflies, often lulling her to sleep. The thought of spending a week sleeping in a old dusty house was not too appealing.

Upon arriving at the estate, Aqualate, Gareth was waiting at the gate to help with her bags along with two other young men. She did not fail to see the long locks of hair they had. It made her a little jealous, to see men who had such pretty hair when her own was a rats nest most of the time. One with fair hair smiled and spoke something to her but her brain couldn't quite accept the language as real leaving her immediate response to simply nod and smile.

However, what confused her most was not the strange yet beautiful men and odd ways a speaking, but that they had already run off with her bag.

"Wait a minute!"

"What is the problem? Have you forgotten something?" Gareth appeared at her side ushering her through the main doors and into a large reception room. Two great columns greeted her, both covered in carved ivy patterns. Tapestries covered the main walls with a large wooden staircase which split into two directions greeted her at the far end. It was light and welcoming, not a single spec of dust to be seen.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to just barge in? I mean, shouldn't I see Mr. Beauchene first?"

"Ah," he began wearing a small yet grieved smile, "I'm afraid that my lord is out tending to the herds at present. But he wishes for you to stay in the main house until the meeting and feast tomorrow night. He mentioned for me to tell you that you could explore the house if you so wished, but to remain clear of the second floor." Gareth turned slowly as she continued to panic about the wrongness of the situation.

"Eric said it would just be a quick interview, nothing like this! Please, I feel so wrong intruding in someone else's house. And there's no need to baby me," she snapped at a young woman who was trying to take her coat from her shoulders.

"I suppose you know Mr. Rhys better than I, but I believe he wishes for you to feel safe here. In order to do this you must let us do what we do best and that is to see to your comfort. I sure things will reveal themselves in time but for now please make the best of your situation." And with that said he merrily went on his way towards the stairs.

"Gareth wai-" she stuttered as her own clumsy feet tripped over the green patterned rug leading to the stairs, causing her to instinctively reach out to steady herself only to grabbed Gareth as her target. They both tumbled to the floor in a heap of 'umphs'. Kilmeny had landed on top of the man yet it took her a few seconds to realise the fact that she was squishing him to death.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed and went to help him up when she paused.

"No please it was entirely me fault."

Her eyes were fixed on his face. "Um, Gareth?"

He blinked, twice, looking up at her from his sitting position on the floor.

"Why are your ears pointed?"

* * *

Beauchene – beautiful oak

**_I know its a little slow at first, but there will be much more Tolkien in the next chapter! thanks for reading, more soon :)_**


	3. Chapter 2

_**Edited chapters are up! Yay! **_

_**The song used in this chapter is Kilmeny by Medieval Baebes really nice song to put you to sleep at night. **_

* * *

_**~Chapter 2~**_

_Often I had alone_  
_To speak of my trouble_  
_Each morning before dawn,_  
_There is none now living,_  
_to whom I dare,_  
_clearly speak_  
_of my innermost thoughts._

* * *

The stars were scarce in the black sky, only one or two could manage to shine bright enough to pierce the dark clouds. This only fuelled his resolve to wait out the long night in his library surrounded by memory. Thranduil had long passed the time when he would willing sleep each night and dream of better things, of brighter times, for now he was truly ancient and his mind felt the heavy weight like a crown of lead.

Of course he had read each and every book he possessed twice and then once more for good measure or out of boredom. Yet that night he could not read to occupy this thoughts for they lay with the strange request of the Peredhel's son concerning a woman.

_"It will be good for you both, I feel, to meet and learn from each other. She may even surprise you!"_ he had said.

_"Why should I welcome her into my house when she has nothing to give in return? The children of men are not my concern."_

_"She is just like every other human, I grant you, yet she has strong ties to her past. And besides, she reminds me of what it was like ages ago… to feel proud and hopefully of man. Surely ones such as her should be treasured not discarded? What duty do we have left in Arda expect to guard and teach? Is that not why we created the Gathering?"_

A log on the fire cracked loudly, the sounded momentarily filling the room. Yes, he had agreed to let the girl stay, on the terms that she leave when he ordered. The deal set, he could not feel anymore unease about the situation. Once more he glanced at the window and the shadows of the trees, left to his self-created state of boredom.

"But she is not that woman," he whispered to the moon."She is far away, walking now by starlight."

* * *

Kilmeny had been placed on the queen sized bed in her new room and a hot drink tucked into her hands. A pair of eyes followed her every shaky movement in case something went amiss. She was unsure how to feel at the news Gareth and Vanessa had shared with her.

Elves.

Real life, honest to god _ELVES_.

At first she thought that perhaps he had had some sort of operation during a rebellious stage in his youth or something like that, or perhaps he just liked that sort of thing? But his blatant and surprised acceptance caught her off guard.

"We assumed she already knew, the lord has never favoured one who did not know of our existence!" Vanessa had insisted to Gareth who appeared less than pleased at having unintentionally broken the first rule.

"The lord was clear in his instructions. She is as much a guest as an employee here."

"Oh dear it must be quite a shock to you!" Vanessa cooed over her like an overprotective mother.

That was the understatement of the century, cook.

She wasn't sure whether to laugh, faint or just smile; fainting being the most female thing to do in this situation. So instead she sat in the edge of her bed staring in awe at the figures before her. _If it is true then several things would make sense! Don't be daft Kilmeny, elves are – are fantasy! And yet, the people in front of you don't seem…well human._ Indeed they were graceful, beautiful, kind, everything they were supposed to be.

She started when a smooth knock rapped on the door and a man (or was it an elf? she wondered) ushered Gareth over and whispered quickly in the same but strange way as he had early. Gareth nodded bluntly and turned to face her.

"I'm afraid the lord would like to see you, if you think you can take some more information today."

Her hands were still shaking on the mug but his stare suggested that his question was more of an order. Neither said a word as the marched down the long carpeted hallway and down a small flight of stairs towards a room at the far end of another corridor. She noted little about the way there, only that she could barely hear Gareth's footsteps as he moved. They stopped at a pair of wooden double doors which he opened and inclined his head swiftly before moving aside.

Before her, seated behind a large oak desk, sat an imposing figure. She sucked in her breath and could only think one word.

_Inhuman._

This man's eyes, pure as moonlight, bore into her as if she were a criminal yet they were so aged, so weary, she thought. His long fair hair was not tied back as the others was but left to hang down his back and over his shoulders in sheets of silk. That face, she realised, could never have belonged to any man, for it was for too much even for models. But somehow he felt old just by looking at that face. To look anywhere else you would say he was in his thirties. Even his fine linen clothes; a dark blue shirt and what she presumed were black trousers behind the table gave off a sense of dignity and refinement.

She had seen his lips moving but remembered no sound. When she felt a hand which belonged to Gareth touch her elbow she leapt back to reality. The stern face was leering at her from behind the desk, clearly impatience and ill-tempered.

"I asked you a question, girl."

"I'm sorry, uh, could you please repeat that?" Her voice sounded so small, childlike even against his deep tone.

"Of all the mortals he sends me this one," she thought she heard him mutter. "I trust you are now aware of our situation. Although, truthfully, I was surprised that Eric had not informed you sooner, he seems rather fond of you."

Kilmeny scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion.

"Why would he tell me anything about this? I mean I'd never have believed him in the first place!"

"And now? What do you believe now, girl?" His question was fired at her, filled with an animosity which she could not place. It made her jump.

"It would be difficult for me to disagree now." She shuffled her feet whilst trying to find something to do with her hands to stop them from shaking behind her back. The elf lord studied her for a moment, judging her very breath it seemed.

"Well now you know. What you choose to believe is yours to decide." He leant back in his chair from his crouched position on the desk and gesturing with a hand to the seat in front of him. Another movement sent Gareth out of the door, leaving her alone in a room with the fair haired elf. "Now, since my counterpart has failed to inform you of everything it seems I must do so." He took a collection of papers from under his desk and set them before her. "I assume you are familiar with the work a man named Tolkien?"

"Yes," she nodded slowly not liking too much where this was headed.

"Well, forget everything he wrote about for little of his writing is true, with the exception of the details of the War of the Ring." He took a moment to gauge her reaction but saw nothing to cause concern except for of course the look of confusion of her face.

"So you're telling me that Tolkien was right, well in way at least? And how did he get it wrong?"

"I do not have the time presently nor the capacity to explain it to you. I merely wish to know how much you wish to understand about your current situation," he snapped, looking irritated. _He's like a lion, _she thought_, all wild and dignified._

"So what are these then?" she said gesturing to the mountain of papers in front of her.

"Details you should learn and learn quickly. You may have been hired to work with horses but I hear that you study archives and histories for a degree, strange is it not for you to apply for such a place?"

"I did but…." Kilmeny was surprised and wondered just how much his elf knew about her. "If I may, just who are you anyway?"

"Who do you think I am?"

"Well you said Tolkien was correct, but then there were plenty of fair haired elves…" He seemed less than impressed about her rambling so her jaw snapped shut and she made a mental scramble for names. His fingers drummed the desk, his white stoned ring winking in the morning light. Theodore Beauchene. Suddenly he heaved a great sigh.

"Has the world of men sunk so far as to have forgotten us? Even when we are so close…" His eyes glazed over and a look of sadness fell over his face. Kilmeny had to resist the urge to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort.

"Forgive me for saying so but you look… well tired."

The laugh he gave was neither joyous nor sarcastic. His gaze fell upon her face and she thought that the coldness had left for a moment.

"It matters not." He paused and thought for a while, leaving her in awkward silence before continuing. "Kilmeny Lance, do you know for whom you are named?" His tone was almost gentle, as if speaking to a child. But the question caught her off guard.

"Um, my mum was very fond of an old song, or poem I can't remember which. But the female character in it had my name."

_Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where hath you been?_

_Lang hae we sought baith holt and dean,_

_By Burn by Ford by Greenwood tree,_

_Yet you are halesome and fair to see._

The elf's voice, both beautiful and hypnotic, sent shivers down her spine and across her skin. The song was familiar to her, the tale of a young woman long ago who wandered into the faerie realm only to return changed and strange to her home after 10 years. It was a sad tale, she always believed.

"The woman, Kilmeny, was indeed a true figure from your past. But you are so different from her." Kilmeny wondered what he meant by that tone of voice. Was he looking at her as if she was a person from so long ago?

"How so? What woman?"

He shook his head, letting the hair flow along with his movement.

"Not now, but no doubt we shall have ample opportunity to speak of such things in the coming days. That is if you agree to stay in the house? But back onto matters of business, everything that is crucial should be written in the documents before you, if you should have any questions please save them until Eric arrives tomorrow."

"Ok." She gave up trying to fight answers from him; the mask was placed back into his features.

"You must understand that the idea of bringing you into this society was not by choice but through necessity."

"I don't understand." She chose to focus on the hem of her sleeve then, trying to ignore the cold eyes that froze her skin. "Why not just send me on my way if you are so unhappy about my being here? Why waste me precious time?"

"Time is precious to you is it?"

"Of course! I'm a mortal, I only have my lot and then that's it, poof!"

He gave a look of confusion, one delicately raised eyebrow.

"Poof?"

"You know, gone, deceased, expired."

"Well you are correct on that point at least." He stood to his full height as did Kilmeny and she wished she hadn't. He towered over her by about half a foot; her nose level with his collar bone. "I suggest you settle in for now, it may be best if the others explain this to you." And with that he strode from the room and down the narrow corridor leaving Kilmeny to stand in his study bewildered and still not knowing who her host was.

* * *

The day seemed to fly past her is colours and movement until the stars littered the sky. She had had little time for rest after she had unpacked, gazed around her new room in awe, explored the bathroom which could fit five people easily, eaten with Vanessa and her daughter who she had learnt had taken mortal names whilst Gareth, or Galion, preferred his elven name is private, and then journey to meet her new horse friends at the stables whilst dodging Arthur's glares.

Yet the sky was now dark and the first fireflies of summer had come out of hiding, illuminating the paths to the gardens. A white female tom cat had taken to following her most of the day, he was a pretty little thing with large blue eyes. Even as she walked towards the fountain on her right near the centre of the gardens he followed behind at his own pace. The young gardener had told her his name was Nim. Somehow it suited him rather well.

A large tree, leaves in full bloom stood proudly in the centre of the small courtyard area, surrounded by fireflies.

"Wow." Kilmeny felt herself smile at the sight. Of all the times not to have a camera! She was about to have a closer look but spotted a figure moving silently form the forest behind. She gasped and hid behind the nearby hedge at seeing the elf lord approach the great oak. He was wearing some sort of robe then, flowing and graceful, even as he ascended the tree with ease. Nim meowed loudly and trotted off in his direction. Kilmeny tried to catch him but failed, muttering 'traitor' to herself. The cat glanced back, she could imagine him smirking, before running and leaping up the tree to sit beside the elf who had found a comfy pot between its branches.

It was then, when she could get a clear look that she truly believed in elves. He appeared so at home in the tree, reaching out to the fireflies gently whilst remembering to make a fuss of the cat who had curled up in his lap. His hair shone in the starlight. He was singing softly but each note was captured by the breeze like snowflakes, that familiar yet haunting language unknown to mankind.

It came to her then like an echo from a forgotten dream.

A name.

"Thranduil." The name flowed off her tongue like air. "You're name is Thranduil of Greenwood the Great."

* * *

**_Good lord I hate introductory stuff but hopefully that should be about it for now :P_**


	4. Chapter 3

_**~Chapter 3~**_

_I know it truly,_  
_That it is in men,_  
_A noble custom,_  
_That one should keep secure,_  
_His mind,_  
_Guard his thoughts,_  
_Think as he wishes._

* * *

The house was in uproar.

Kilmeny was pulled abruptly from her hazy dreams to the clangs and shouts from people rushing around both inside and out. The wooden panelled floor shocked her bare feet with their chill as she hopped over to the window that looked out onto the main courtyard and driveway. Neat rows of sculpted hedges lined the cobblestone road that ended at a large gate similar to the one she had entered from on her first day. But there were tall pine trees that guard the path on either side giving the place an ominous feel. She moved around sluggishly, getting dressed for comfort rather than show and paid little attention to her surroundings. Kilmeny Lance was _not_ a morning person as a poor elf was soon to discover. Having spent most of the night awake and reading through the boring, tiny print of the documents Thranduil had given her during their meeting she was falling asleep upright. The sea of names and places, companies and such had given her a headache too.

In the kitchen she found Vanessa and her daughter alongside two others who she had not met busily preparing vegetables and fruit, pushing her aside as if she were a branch in their way.

"Let me past for god sake!" she cried as a young elf blocked her path once more, arms laden with a large pile of white cloth. He gave a start and stared wide eyed at the scowling woman. Having been pushed around the room she managed to snatch an apple from the bowl on the side and march out into the courtyard. Mumbling to herself about nothing in particular she arrived at the stables to the familiar and comforting smell of saddle soap and hay. It was relatively quiet here, giving some sort of relieve from the turmoil inside.

"Outta my way!" She jumped at Jack's command, somehow he seemed even more ill-temper than the day they met. Glaring and grumbling as he went about his business, carrying three rabbits over his shoulder.

"Sorry," she squeaked only to back herself into a second figure. The old groom murmured something as he pushed past with a wheelbarrow of straw. "Let me give you a hand."

"You're alright miss. I don't need anyone getting in the way today of all days, ta." Arthur spoke as he opened the empty stall to her right and began cleaning it. She saw then that most of the stalls were empty, even the pretty dark bay Jack had been riding was missing.

"Where are they all?"

"Getting ready for the hunt, but of course you wouldn't know about that." He looked back at her stoney faced, seeing her shuffling from one foot to the next. "Well since you're here," he sighed. "Can you see to the next stall for me? Grab the barrow from you're left if you please."

"Sure." Kilmeny smiled, happy to be a use at last. They worked quickly and quietly, which suited the both of them just fine.

"You certainly work fast."

"I had to," she stopped to wipe the sweat from her forehead and placed the dirty straw on the heap outside as Arthur began to refill the water trough. "I worked at a small yard for a while when I was studying, we had to be quick and professional or else get a mouthful from the yard director."

Arthur nodded, moving towards the large barn on the left. She followed but did not offer to help him with the heavy black saddles in fear of ruining what she had already started in earning his trust.

"Word's been going around the place you know," he glanced up. "Seems you must be here for a reason but no one seems to know anything, 'cept the lord of course. _Pah!_ These elves are more secretive than a group of old foxes."

"What do you mean?" she asked. Her hands trying to find something to do and found the matching bridles hanging on the wall. She seated herself next to Arthur on the bench as he cleaned the tack, surprising her by offering the rag and soap for her gear.

"It's a bit funny isn't it, that the lord would hire an outsider when all the others here are even elves or people from the village down the hill?"

She nodded, focusing on the shining metal snaffle bit in thought. He was an elven king of old, a sylvan elf from Greenwood the Great which had been named _Mirkwood _during the second age. _What a horrible place that must have been to live in, yuck spiders!_ But he could have turned down Eric's recommendation and hired someone more suited to the job. _Then again, do I really have a job here or not? He didn't seem very keen on keeping me. So, why am I here? _

"Why'd you take a job like this anyway? I hear you got a fancy degree in history or something."

"Well," she chuckled but the humour was lost from her voice. A frown settled on her face, one that did not go unnoticed. "I suppose, we all need somewhere to start, right? This was as good as any, especially in the current climate."

"I suppose." Arthur didn't touch the subject again, and for that she welcomed his silent treatment. _Suppose I'm good at dancing around subjects by now, best to keep the past in the past after all._

Not long after they had finished a young man with large eyes jogged towards her. He smiled and bowed his head, it seemed strangely formal and she had to resist the urge to bow back once again.

"The lord wishes to see you in the lounge, miss."

He then lead her back through the house which by then had far more people occupying it, all chatting and hanging around holding drinks and laughing merrily. She spotted Gareth over by the main door inviting new comers in. All she noted wore expensive styles and Armani suits. The urge to hide away was intense.

The elf opened the door into the oak and green decorated lounge for her and disappeared, leaving her in a room with several curious eyes turning her way. Putting on her best front, Kilmeny manoeuvred herself around the room smiling politely to those she past whilst internally scowling. Finally, she spotted the tell-tale blond locks through a second open doorway that led into a smaller room. The once Elven King was standing wearing a formal looking tunic made of a deep shade of green and what appeared to be long riding boots. His hair was braided on either side o meet in the centre. Her inner self grinned at the sight of seeing a real Tolkien elf. He was a part of a small circle of figures, separate from the rest of the party of people. As she walked towards them several of the figures nearby began to whisper and stare blatantly. It was clear as day that the group was not just a gathering of friends, they all wore similar outfits and appeared to hold themselves more elegantly and with a regal air than the rest. No one had yet to approach them unless to offer refreshments.

"Ah there you are!" A voice called out, startling here. _Why am I so jumpy today? _But she knew the owner of the voice immediately and returned his brilliant grin with one of her own. Eric Rhys parted himself from the circle of individuals she had been staring at and opened his arms to welcome her into a bear hug. It was a safe yet uncomfortable feeling to be watched by so much strangers, including the rest of Thranduil's group. Eric had cut his hair, she noted with a tinge of sadness. His once long jet black locks now sat just touching his shoulders. But his eyes were the same; gentle and bright. "It's been far too long since I last saw you, Kilmeny. I hope you're settling in well, hmm? Is old Thranduil been giving you a hard time?"

"No, no he's been quite welcoming. Though I feel a little curious as to why you brought me here." He gave an impish smile and began to pull her towards the group. "Seriously, Eric, what on earth am I doing here?"

"All in good time." He placed a hand on her shoulder_. But I want to know now._ She couldn't help but glance up at her friend and think about whether or not she really knew him. His ears were covered by his hair which suited his sharp features well enough, but the nagging feeling to see for herself was overwhelming.

"Brother," he addressed the man nearest to them; she was shocked to see a replica of her friend standing before her with tied back hair. "Allow me to finally introduce you to Kilmeny."

"_Mae g'ovannen, hiril nin_." His voice was a little deeper than Eric yet just as smooth. She floundered for a moment at hearing the odd language of the elves. He saw her surprise and panic and smiled gently. "Forgive me I forget that you are not familiar with our tongue. Though, you are not quite as a thought you would be. By the way my brother rabbited on I expected some sorceress, he seems bewitched!"

A sharp sentence flew from Eric's lips to which his brother laughed but said nothing. Kilmeny blushed pink.

"Well I am as you see me sir," she chuckled. "I heard Eric had a brother but I didn't know you were twins."

"Oh yes, both a burden and a blessing," Eric grumbled taking a large sip of his drink.

The smiling twin extended his hand towards her, "My name is Elijah but I would wish that you call me Elladan." _Huh?_ She threw glances between the two of them as he took her wimp hand in his and kissed it. The heat in her cheeks only grew to a blushing red.

"B-but if y-you're Elladan then that means you're…"

"Guilty yes, I am called Elrohir on occasion." The look of guilt and sheepishness on his face ignited a small fire of anger in her chest.

"Then, you are the sons of Elrond," she stated calmly, choosing to stare him in the eye. He bowed his head a little.

"Indeed."

"You are elves."

Betrayal. It was the only name that appeared to fit the feeling as she looked at her friend. To think that she had known him for 3 years whilst studying, lived with him for a year of that time in a shared house and yet known nothing. She had been blind. Of course he was an elf. No human could do half the things he did and still act so graceful. The bile on her throat rose.

"I think that has long been established." Thranduil, cold scold in place, stood before them tailed by his two companions. "You have made such a mess of the situation, boy. I warned you that you would make a scene in my home, with the reporters here no less!" She had been oblivious to the flash of cameras from the window until then. He turned to her then with flashing eyes but kept his voice low as he had been throughout the conversation.

"Did you not read the documents before this day?"

"Yes but, uh, they didn't make much sense really." She felt small again, like a child being scolded by an adult. The look of pure annoyance he gave her only fuelled the anger she felt.

"I meant no ill! Truly I did not!" Eric defended, turning once more to her. "I am sorry for lying to you but not everything I told you was untrue, you simply did not take my hints well enough apparently. Besides, everything will sort itself in time. After all she is here now."

Thranduil made a non-committal noise and turned to his companion on his left; a shorter but imposing looking elf with mousy brown hair, hand clasped behind his back.

"_Hosta i' gwaith e' i' ento sambe, Ithilas." _The elf bowed his head at the command and took off. The second elf spoke quickly to a woman beside him who too hurried after the one named Ithilas, he then walked towards the forming group and nodded in greeting to the others. He was tall with broad shoulders and had long golden hair styled in a similar fashion to Thranduil's.

"I think it may be best if we take our places in the library, my dear. For when these ellyn begin arguing not even the istari can settle the air." His smile was tight, perhaps nervous about the tension brewing between the three males behind her. She willing accepted his outstretching arm and allowed him to lead her through the small crowd.

"Thanks for that, I wasn't sure whether to scream at him or cringe in fear of Theo back there. Are they always like that?"

"Sadly, yes." He sighed heavily, pushing open the door for her. There were several others already in the room, speaking quietly by the windows or seating at the large round table in the centre. She was certain that there had to be a copy of every book ever published in that room, the books stretched to the ceiling with long spiralling staircases on either side. "There was one particular occasion I remember when my Lord Celeborn had to intervene much to Thranduil's dismay. He was not entirely happy about having to visit Lorien and my Noldor folk; it seemed Elrohir was his opportunity to vent his anger."

"What happened?" she asked, in awe of the elf before her.

"Let's just say there was a lot of creamed desert involved." He paused to raise a hand in greeting to someone across the room. "The meeting should start shortly."

Even though she had met elves that were present during the events of Tolkien's books to meet one who did not send her shaking in her boots was magical. Her eyes widened at the mention of the golden city.

"Wait a minute! You were at Lothlorien?"

"Indeed, after all I was Marchwarden for the Lord and Lady for over 5000 years," was his haughty reply.

Bells went off inside her head. You have to be kidding me! Immediately she bowed her head in what she hoped was a respectful way.

"Well met! I can't believe I'm actually speaking to _the_ Haldir. It's an honour."

"You flatter me, please raise your head. No daughter of Rohan should have to bow to one such as me." He placed a firm hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her towards the table ignoring protests and confusion.

Kilmeny had not missed the way he addressed her and wondered whether he had made a mistake. She really should have concentrated more on those documents and details, she felt so poorly prepared for what was to come. Taking on seat nearest to the window she watched several more people enter the library including the twins and their host who was in deep conversation (in elven yet again) with another figure, this time a middle aged man and what looked like his wife. Thranduil took a seat on her far right whilst Eric, no Elrohir; she told herself firmly, sat in the seat beside her with the middle aged man on her left.

With everyone seated the doors were closed and papers shuffled. Thranduil raised a hand for silence.

"Welcome, friends, to the Aqualate Gathering."

* * *

Formal apologies were made for those who were absent and the business began. She learnt quite a bit from simply listening and watching the group; for example, how the elves and humans kept a distinct barrier between each other, with the exception of herself who was seated smack damn in the middle of the two groups. A dark haired elf, who was Erestor of Imladris, sat beside Thranduil diligently taking notes of the meeting. There did not appear to be a leader amongst them with the men and women speaking with as much power as Haldir and his folk, although it was clear that they were to be respected above all.

The tension, it seemed, between the twins and Thranduil hadn't lessened, if anything it had grown and the entire room felt it.

"You're vineyards in Gascony do not seem to be coping well to the current climate, Thranduil. I wonder whether you would be wiser to concentrate on your venison exports rather than drown yourself in debt." Elrohir's barbed comment earned a sharp glance from the elf lord.

"My vineyards have always prospered since the time of Norman Conquest of England and they shall continue to do so without your interference, boy." He turned his cold gaze to Erestor who had stopped writing and urged him to continue. "Besides, I do not believe you are one to lecture me about failing enterprises after your fiasco in Vienna."

Elrohir spluttered and moved to lean over around Kilmeny to speak further, but a hand had grabbed him by his collar and forced him to sit back down in his chair. She glanced up to see a displeased Haldir scowling down at him.

"Honestly, can we not have one hour without the two of you causing a scene?" he said before taking his place once more. Thranduil's fist was curled on the table and his jaw was set as he rounded on Haldir.

"If some of us would not stoop to such childish - "

"I believe there is a pressing matter on the agenda next," Erestor interrupted, making eye contact with the person next to her. A firm hand stopped Elorhir before he could stand. Elladan said nothing to his brother, communicating with a simple look, as he gently but resolutely pushed him back into his seat.

"If I may?" He then stood to address his audience. "I wish to introduce to the daughter of James and Elen Lance, Kilmeny Lance, from the line of the royal horse masters of Rohan long ago. It is our proposal that she take up the empty seat in our Corporation Circle and with the approval of Thranduil," he nodded in his general direction, apparently waiting for a rebuff before continuing. "She might be entitled to a placement amongst us." Elrohir then spoke out from his chair.

"We ask that you each vote for your decision on whether this woman should be accepted into the Corporation through means of her birth right."

Kilmeny's head was spinning, she no longer cared to cried out her protests about her apparent birth right as a descendant of Rohan, neither did she bother to complain about the fact that they wanted to her join their apparent organisation. Everything was happening far too fast. So she sat there like a board, listening and staring at these strange people.

The group began to exchange glances, none of them seem too eager to agree with the twins.

"That line has long been broken. Nothing has been seen nor heard since the 14th century and the fire," spoke one female elf gravely. Her face had paled as she looked at Kilmeny, almost as if she was watching the past all over again.

"As difficult as it is to believe I assure you Alassiel, the daughter of Thomas De Chevalier survived the ordeal, well enough to continue that line, one I have had closely monitored since that day to this." Thranduil spoke, his eyes watching her, making her so uncomfortable with the sharpness of his gaze. She forced herself to focus on the patterns that the knots in the wood of the table made.

"I am glad to hear it," spoke Haldir without removing his eyes from the glass on water in his hand. "The lady was both fair and kind, much of which I have heard of from Elrohir about Miss Lance. _Ú-firo i laiss e-guil gîn, hiril nin._" His last sentence was uttered with such a tone of sadness and loss, Kilmeny began to wonder just who this mysterious woman was.

The humans on the other side began to chatter. She felt their eyes raking over her with such a scrutiny, she hated it. It made her feel unworthy, unseemly.

"Why does she sit there letting the lords speak for her?"

"She's an outsider, never heard of elves before! She has no place here."

"Surely my lords she is just a girl, there are others who are more qualified and capable that could fill the seat?" An older man spoke to Elladan, perhaps wishing one of his children or friend could impress them enough to win this reward.

"Ungrateful child," One woman hissed under her breath, but loud enough for her to hear. She sucked in a breath and turned to Elrohir who had been watching her closely.

"Please, you needn't bother. I don't think they're going to change the minds," she pleaded. But he said nothing, glancing over at his brother for help but found none. She went to stand, perhaps she could make it to her room before being stopped and hide out there until the party was over. Then she could figure something out of this situation. He took her wrist in one hand stopping her, making her look directly at him as he whispered to her with a small smile.

_Trust me._

"Surely you have an opinion of this matter, Christopher?" Thranduil's spoke over the din, silencing others with the power of it. All eyes then turned to the man seated next to Kilmeny who had remained silent throughout the meeting. She looked at the then, a middle aged man with hair that was greying slightly at the sides, he wore a neatly trimmed beard and brown jacket and one earring in his right ear, making he look a little like a member of biker gang.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy with this situation. There are so few of us willing to look back at our pasts these days. Do any of us have the right to deny this young woman her history or the right to learn about it or from it?" He spared her a quick glance, a studying one. "I think it would be a good thing for the future of this company to have more young people like herself, more of my kin."

Both elves and men continued to mutter but he carried on only this time looking directly at her.

"You have a keen mind for learning right? And for history?"

Kilmeny nodded, "Yea."

"And you'd be willing to put yourself forward for this position? The pay made be good but there's a lot of hard work. But it's a win-lose situation and entirely your decision, lass."

She stopped to think about everything for as much as she felt she was allowed. No matter what insecurities screamed in her head she could only see good outcomes. Furthermore, there was something so familiar about the man, Christopher that made him feel trustworthy, almost that she wanted to please him.

Somehow, she found herself nodding in agreement, "I would."

He smirked.

"Then I believe the argument is over."

The group continued the mumble and chatter after he had spoken, until Elorhir raised a hand for silence.

"All those in favour please speak now."

These was a sudden silence as he looked first to Chrisptopher. He smiled at her.

"Aye."

"Aye," said Haldir who then looked to his neighbour Thranduil. He looked like he was a million miles off.

"Aye."

"Aye," spoke Erestor without looking up from his careful writing.

"Nay," whispered the elven woman, she refused the look anyone in the eye. The votes then followed repeating with a mixture of consent and denial, leaving the final vote to an old woman sitting opposite in between two men. She looked to Kilmeny wearing no expression that she could read.

"Aye," she whispered. Kilmeny felt herself smiling. The youngest man beside her leap up in anger.

"Her vote is invalid! My mother cannot make serious decisions at such a time. That girl should not be considered for the company never mind the Corporation Circle!"

"Daniel, sit down!" the other man roared, clearly embarrassed by his behaviour. All the while the old woman smiled dreamily.

"I believe voting has ended then," Haldir said. "Welcome to the Athelas Corporation."

The group began to disperse, some choosing to talk quietly and others simply left the room in a hurry. Some came up to meet Kilmeny, shaking hands and making pleasantries. Overall she felt out of her comfort zone, how her world had changed in a matter of days! She could scarcely believe it. See watched Thranduil leave the room with Ithilas and Erestor. Even Haldir made his congratulations and swiftly left.

A light hand tapped her shoulder causing her to turn. Christopher stood there looking happily down at her.

He said quietly, "I think you and I should have a talk."

* * *

_**Elvishness :**_

_Hosta i' gwaith e' i' ento sambe_ – gather (the people) in the next room,

_Ellyn_ – plural for male elves

_Istari_ – wizard

_Ú-firo i laiss e-guil gîn_ – may the leaves of your life never die, my lady.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! Happy summer Just to let you all know I've had to tweak the first few chapters to fit with plot changes, hopefully it should make a little more sense now.**

**To Legoelf – I know, I was so sad that they were missed out of the movies. But here they are and here they will stay ;)**

**Thanks for your comments and I'm glad that my story is readable! Enjoy!**

* * *

_**~Chapter 4~**_

_The weary spirit cannot_  
_Withstand fate,_  
_Nor does a rough or sorrowful mind_  
_Do any good,_  
_Thus those eager for glory_  
_Often keep secure_  
_Dreary thoughts_  
_In their breast._

* * *

They escaped the throng of men and elves to the garden that was still warmed by the dying sun summer sun. Only a few couples stood out there, admiring the range of flowers the sat in neat rows before them, with the grand old oak standing guard some distance away. Kilmeny had no choice, or will, to do anything but follow patiently after Christopher, nodding and smiling to those who greeted him and through curious glances her way. Most were full of respect or affection, patting him on the back and wearing large smiles from both elves and men. Yet there were some who simply inclined their heads or raised there're glasses. She didn't really understand but knew deep down that he was an important and respected figure.

"I suspect you have a lot of questions," he said when they had reached the old tree, placing a hand upon the rough bark.

"You guessed right."

"Ah, but where to begin!" he laughed though it carried little humour. He features soften as he watched her take a seat on the bench underneath the tree, perched awkwardly on the end furthest away. "I was hoping to meet you here, after Elrohir told me you would be attending my wife and I have thought of little else."

"How so?"

"There are so few of us nowadays, those who can trace their heritage right back to the old days." He took the seat next to her though remembered to leave a person sized gap between them and loosened his jacket to let it hang open.

"About that," Kilmeny raised her head to look at him. _He has such kind eyes._ "Elrohir mentioned something about Rohan. What did he mean when he said my family came from the royal… something or other? I don't – it can't possibly be true. I mean, well … how can someone trace back that far?" Her stuttering came to an end at the sound of Christopher's chuckling. He man paused to smile.

"A bit crazy huh?" She nodded. "I've found that where elves are concerned it's best just go along with what they say. But in your case, the connection is obvious."

Kilmeny needed a cool drink, one to smooth her parched throat and two to help her aching skull. At his comment she thought back to her conversation with Thranduil in his study. The hints and unclear phrases had not been too helpful in that matter.

"For one you share the same hair as her, Lady Kilmeny I mean."

"Huh?" Her fingers went out and curled around a strand of her dark brown hair that waved straight, not quite curly and quite flat waves either. Although her mother had despaired at her appearance as a child Kilmeny wasn't bothered too much by the mess in the morning or when the wind would turn it into a nest for leaves.

"You're namesake of course, but I suppose your parents didn't tell you any of the stories, huh?" She shook her head, making her hair fly out a little. Christopher frowned. "It's a long story and quite a sad one too. But the most important thing was that she was the great-great something or other granddaughter of Faramir and Eowyn of Ithillien. That is why you are so important here."

"You're joking, right?" The mere thought of her being descending from the shield maiden, a brave women from so long ago seemed a little farfetched. "But you said something earlier about being kin, what was that?"

"Ah, you see my family comes directly from King Eomer. So, in a way, we are distant cousins."

"I never had a cousin," she thought whimsically. It was an odd feeling, almost liberating. From what she could remember of Tolkien's tales Eomer was the nephew of King Theoden of Rohan, a great race of men from the third age who were fond of horses and brilliant riders. How was it possible that the family line could continue for so long without being lost? It was partly thrilling to learn that those whom were once just characters on a page were once living breathing people, and here she was talking to them, with their descendants.

"Your parent's didn't seem like the type to take to tradition," he said.

"No, they weren't." She took a deep breath, the subject of her parents was still a little shaky. "You knew them?"

He nodded. "Well you're father at least, we met when we were boys during one of the gatherings at Christmas time; I think it was Haldir's ... or maybe Gwethwyn's house. Anyway, it was clear that he wanted nothing to do with me. He was quite a stubborn boy."

"That sounds like Dad," she chuckled. The wind picked up, making the tree above them shudder, scattering a few lost leaves into the garden.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, leaning back in his seat. "Their death must have been quite a blow to you."

Kilmeny couldn't say anything in reply, the words wouldn't move past the lump in her throat. So she chose to nod and avoid his eyes to watch the bees hop from flower to flower in zigzag patterns.

The fire had started from the kitchen. It ate through the entire house, trapping Kilmeny and her parents inside. The seventeen year old was the only one to walk away that day, leaving her alone and adrift. She had no family to call on for help, her father's side was a small group who wished nothing to do with her and no one from her mother's was still alive. It was an empty feeling filled to be useless, unwanted. After their death she went to university like they had wanted, got a degree but in the end the only thing she was really any good at was looking after horses, training them, riding them, and understanding them. Her parents didn't agree. So she wandered in between dreams and reality, not knowing what the future might be or I there was one at all.

They were quiet for a time, listening to the chatter of people from the house, watched as the lights were steady turned on in each room. The garden emptied slowly until they were the only ones left.

"I have lived with the knowledge all my life," Christopher said to break the heavy silence. "Since I was a young boy I grew up around the elves, with tales of my ancestors' great deeds and epic quests. I wanted to know everything, learn everything I could from them. As a boy I couldn't be more upset when I discovered that wasn't the case for me, there weren't any giant dragons or legions of goblins to slay anymore." He paused to pick a leaf out of his hair that had been tickling his forehead. "I can't imagine what a shock it must be to learn it all in such a short time."

"I admit the last few days have been the craziest of my life, but it's not been a bad experience so far."

"Glad to hear it." He raised a hand to the house, she could just make out a figure in the window waving them in. "It's getting dark, the hunt should be starting soon."

"Hunt?" She took a deep breath and stood, turning to Christopher with a large but forced smile.

"Tradition," he replied with a grimace. "Those who want to go out on a hunt across the moors, Thranduil's lands are filled with deer, or so I've heard."

"So I take it you've never been on one?"

He shook his head, "I had an accident in my younger days and broke my hip falling from a spooked horse, so I can't ride well. Not enough to keep up with the likes of elves anyway."

"It must be sad, to never ride again."

"For someone like us, horses are in our blood, figuratively speaking. But it's not a totally loss, at least I can still ride but I won't be galloping down hills any time soon."

Kilmeny thought the slow walk back to the house took forever, yet she had to admit she felt comforted knowing Christopher was looking out for her. He waved over Elrohir and his brother, who looked to be in a searching for someone over by the doorway that led into the main dining room. Before he made his way over to the corner where his wife was standing talking to an older couple, Christopher spoke quietly to her.

"Thank you for speaking with me, I hope you know you better in the future."

She smiled and shook his outstretched hand which was warm.

"Me too."

* * *

She watched the figures dressed in dull colours in the fading light, all wearing light clothing for riding, long leather boots and tied back with the exception of the elves who wore braids. There was a light breeze in courtyard, ruffling the horses' manes. They were impressive creatures, all muscle and shiny coats with flashing hooves that danced in the light impatiently waiting for the excitement to begin. She stood beside Elladan who was checking the girth on his white mount, the gelding had a good temperament and kept nuzzling Kilmeny when she stopped petting his soft nose. A palomino mare, ears flattened against her head, rushed forward and paced in an agitated manner, kicking out with her hind leg which caught the white gelding's flank. He startled and lurched, throwing his head up and whining. Elladan jumped back and reached to calm him but Kilmeny beat him to it.

"Easy boy, just ignore him," she whispered to comfort him, scratching him behind the ears.

"Control your horse, Tristan!" Elladan snapped, glaring at the rider. The young man grabbing the reins tightly in his fists and chuckled darkly.

"Where's your sense of awareness gone, my lord?" The man was skinny, more so than the lean elves around her. His face was hard and scarred by acne though he wore a resemblance to the large man from the library meeting. They had identical hooked noses.

"Save your taunts for the conference, and your mare's energy for the field." Elladan petted the nervus horse's neck before finishing his checks and mounting in one great leap. "Ignore, him. That boy and his family are highly strung."

Kilmeny glanced over at the man who now was talking to the man from earlier from his horse. They both continued to look her way in between sentences. She felt as if she'd been rubbed the wrong way. She spotted the familiar figure or Elrohir trotting towards her on a chestnut. He sent her an anxious smile which she returned, it was difficult for her to remain angry with him for long, and it always had been. His smile was always contagious, it was why he was forever getting out of trouble whilst at university.

"What do you think, will she be a good jumper do you think?" he said merrily as he pulled up beside her, gesturing to the fine mare beneath him. Kilmeny found him handsome in his tunic and with braided hair. It was the first time she had seen him actually look elven. Truly. She moved closer to catch the horse's bridle with one hand and touch her soft neck with the other.

"She has strong shoulders, and a pretty face." She said touching the small white diamond on the mare's forehead. Big brown eyes stared back at her. "And she has a good build on her, a fine little mare!"

"You see! Just as I said Elladan." He grinned at his scoffing brother. "He doesn't believe my horse will make it to the moors."

"That show pony you're riding will never keep up withArthur,never mind Thranduil's _Astaldo_." He pointed a thumb towards the large and rearing stallion in the hands of the elven lord dressed in forest green. The dapple grey beast looked to be a handful, covered in powerful muscle complete with a flowing mane over his arched neck. Kilmeny wondered whether it was an Andalusian or perhaps other Spanish breed but its head seemed too refined. Yet the elf didn't look to be breaking a sweat over controlling him.

She laughed at the twins arguing, not noticing the looks of hatred aimed at her from across the courtyard. The crowd had split off into riders and spectators with Thranduil in the centre. Elrohir and Elladan wished her their farewells and took off the join Haldir and the others. The more adventurous side of her wished she could go too, if only to be able to ride once more.

"Not joining in newby?" called a voice from behind her. She turned to face the angry mare from earlier, looking past to see the man, Tristan, from earlier smirking from the saddle. "You best stay clear of the courtyard and wait with the other women and children in the house."

Kilmeny gaped at him, too stunned for a moment to speak. "Just what are you implying?"

"Whatever you like, _my lady_."

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she bolted forward to defend herself. The twins watched with worried eyes as she marched past the stomping mare to the rider.

"I'm more than capable of keeping up with the likes of you any day on or off a horse!"

"Then why not join the hunt?" he sneered. Turning then to face the crowd of people listening in to their rather loud conversation. "Everyone else has earned the right to be here, whilst you waltz in invited. Consider this your initiation to our circled if you think you're up to it," he extended an arm in challenge, presently a mocking bow to her. Kilmeny bit back a sneer.

"If you want to be beaten so badly then I guess I'll have to accept."

The grey stallion barged onto the scene causing the other horses the back away or turn. He let loose a loud snort to Tristan's mare who made to nip him. But the stallion merely avoided the act and pawed the ground with his great hoof. His rider looked less than impressed with the situation, but instead of feeling intimidated by the display Kilmeny looked up at him in awe.

"What is going on?"

Tristan suddenly had a change of heart and humbled himself to the extent of almost doubling over in his rush to bow.

"If you please, my lord,

"You needn't join on you first time, those participating today have been doing so for years. Considering your situ -"

"If you please, my lord," she interrupted though clenched teeth. "I'd like to try. I promise I won't be a burden, and if I'm too slow I'll turn back."

He pinned her with a look that warned her to back down but she did not. His

"Please."

Her hand curled into a fist. It had been too long since she last rode in a large group but she felt deep down that she had to prove herself. She had to find a place to belong. After several tense moments of staring down each other the elf turned away.

"_Tolo enna amin! Auta'si lye!"_ As he spoke the crowd gave a cheer and the horses brayed with excitement. He then gave her a glance and spoke harshly. "None of us can bare you as a burden, this is not some game."

"_Huan i desiel_!" a woman called out. She stared as Thranduil re-joined Haldir and his group at the front where two large grey deerhounds stood barking. He spoke to the woman who realised them off into the woods. The twins followed after reluctantly, glancing back at her occasionally.

So Kilemny watched quite stunned, feet rooted to the spot, as the riders trotted past her and off into the woods. It was not long before they had all but gone from sight, hidden by the thick trees. Though she did not miss the smirk from Tristan as he passed.

* * *

**_Elvishness:_**

_Tolo enna amin! – come to me! We go now!_

_Huan i desiel – ready the hounds_


	6. Chapter 5

_**~Chapter 5~**_

_Since long years ago_  
_I hid my lord_  
_In the darkness of the earth,_  
_and I, wretched, from there,_  
_travelled most sorrowfully_  
_over frozen waves_.

* * *

It was cold.

There was the tang of smoke and pine in the air. The snow was falling in gentle trickles onto the woodland floor; a sea of white. Yet the air in the lungs felt heavy, as if she had run a great distance through the snow drifts. She blinked several times trying to clear her vision, but unshed tears blurred the images. A woman wept somewhere, her quiet sobs were the only sound apart from the crunch of fresh snow underfoot. She stumbled on a step and then another before the harsh wind threatened to steal her shawl off her shoulder.

_So cold. _

It bit at her fingers and toes, making them as numb as her face. The morning sun had not yet risen, making the woodland dark with a hazy purple tinge. She heard faint music ahead, distant and far away. It dulled the pain in her heart and gave her a reason to concentrate.

Then there was a light.

It was soft and bright in the distance, bringing a warmth to the frozen area like a beacon. She staggered forwards but her knees shook on wobbly legs. It renewed her strength to move a little quicker, easier through the snow. She followed the light and the growing sound through the trees, almost desperate to find its source.

_Wait_, she thought. _Do not leave me._

_Firiel. _

_Firiel!_

"I am coming."

The music grew louder, clearer as she reached the river leading towards the sea. Through the bull rushes a gleaming boat sailed slowly down stream. It was shining bright in the dawn, a carved swan with rows of oars either side, glowing lanterns hung from its neck and mast as it steadily floated past. Its passengers were elven folk; that much was clear from the garment and long hair, all fine and glittering in the light. Her eyes widened in awe of the sight. Some sat in the centre with a variety of instruments: harps, flutes, creating the peaceful lull of music. A final farewell.

"_Whither go ye down the river, fair boatmen?" _she called out to the ship, moving a few steps closer to the river bank though the words seemed not her own. As if she was a player reader an ancient script.

One of the passengers took to stand on the bow of the ship, hanging onto one the ropes, and called back to her with a musical voice.

"_Far away, on the last road we leave, to Elvenhome where the White Tree is growing!" _

_Firiel, O' Firiel! _

"_Do you hear the call Earth-Maiden?" _he continued._ "Our ship is not full laden, we may carry only one more! The world is filled with peril and thy beauty would surely perish in the snow, Elvenfair!" _

_Where the Star shines upon the foam. _

_On the last shore shining! _

She paused. Her sorrow mingling with her and the bitter cold, she was tempted. To go with them and sail to the sea where starlight danced and never rained nor the wind blew. She took a step and stopped, her boot clad feet finding the hard clay under the snow. Her soul cried out to go to them across the sea but her body refused.

"_I cannot come!"_ she cried out, gripping the shawl tightly. _"I was born Earth's daughter!"_

_Firiel! _

"_The gulls! White gulls! They call you to the ocean, homeward bound to the land of jewels where no sorrow dwells! Can you not hear them, Firiel?" _

_Earth-Maiden fair! _

* * *

Kilmeny awoke from the dream breathless and cold, there was tears in her eyes that she wiped away quickly in her confusion. Her room had grown dark and she wondered just how long she had slept. After her dismissal from the elven lord Kilmeny had received no end of fussing from Christopher and his wife who was a short but larger-than-life lady with dimples. After realising that she could take no more she had first tried to library in the hopes of finding a quiet corner to curl up in, only to find that position taken by Erestor and his files. Frustrated and worn out from the day's events, she had marched back up to her room to take a nap. But the anger linger on, leaving a white pain in her chest.

The dream did not help her already distorted grasp on reality.

_It felt so real. _She could still smell the smoke and feeling the horrid crunch of snow. It made her shudder and draw her arms around her. She stood and looked out over the driveway, unwilling to go downstairs and face the crowd out of pride. Thranduil had humiliated her, made her appear unworthy and weak before her new colleagues and peers. Kilmeny wouldn't forgot it.

Yet it seemed her stomach could easily as it gave a hungry growl. She groaned and looked towards the door. It would also be at the time when a delicious smell floated in on the breeze from the open window adding to her hunger. _Of all the times!_ Slipping on her ballet flats, she popped her head out of the door and saw that the corridor was empty. _Must be dinner time, they should be back from hunting by now_, she thought with a scowl. The very thought of having to sit and eat surrounded by gossiping strangers was unappealing, especially since that family would be present, full of smirks and boasts of their wealth and presence no doubt. Kilmeny had taken an instant dislike to the Cameron family, whom Tristan was the heir to his father's seat. From the very beginning they had shunned her as an outsider to the group and it stung.

The scowl that worked its way onto her face remained there for a god few moments. She had managed to make it unseen to the entrance hall when a noise caught her attention. I dark shadow past the window making her jump, her mind rushing to all the unlikely yet equally scary possibilities. It was then that she heard the tell-tale neighing of a worried horse. She rushed to the door and found an unlikely sight.

The young horse was shaking and afraid, covered in sweat and snorted profusely. He paced up and down the main steps in an agitated manner, east flattened against his head and tail raised in the air like a flag. Upon spotting her, he stood still and began throwing his head back.

"Easy there, easy," she spoke calmly, trying to sooth him enough to find out what was wrong. She could not see any injuries or that there was a problem. But he is frightened and panicky, continuously nudging her shoulder and rubbing his head against her. He allowed her to take his reins before he began turning back towards the woods, pulling against her hold with great force. She stumbled and gasped at his strength. "What is wrong with you, boy?"

"Kilmeny!" a voice called out. The horse started and reared up yet she somehow managed to keep down of his reins.

Christopher jogged towards her but slowed to a walk seeing the skittish animal. He stood a few feet from them, watching with a grave expression. He was followed by

"What happened?"

"I don't know!" she huffed against the creatures tugging. He pulled her over onto her knees on the hard cobblestone and then whinnied loudly, hitting his nose into her face. "Stop it!" She turned to Christopher who gave her a hand up and grabbed hold of the bridle. "Something's wrong."

"That much is obvious, where is his rider?" he asked, eyes scanning the dark trees. "It's strange, the party hasn't come back yet and it's getting darker by the minute."

Something clicked on inside Kilmeny's head. She turned to look at the horse's eyes, he threw his head once more and pulled les roughly towards the woods. Without thinking twice she climbed into the soft leather saddle and took hold of the reins.

"What do you think you're doing, lass?" Christopher's eyes were wide.

"I need to see what he wants to show me," she said with conviction. Her instincts were hardly wrong and in that moment they were screaming at her to trust the animal. "Please, trust me," she begged, and Kilmeny Lance never begged willingly. A moment passed between them of understanding and Christopher relinquished hold of the bridle.

The horse turned on the spot and dashed off into the darkness. In the low light she could barely see a thing, only grip the horse beneath her with her knees and knot her fingers into his mane to stop herself from falling. In the surreal turn of events and although the urgency of the horses movements, all Kilmeny could focus on was the feeling of freedom as they flew through the trees. The wind lapped at her hair whilst the horses breathing set a rhythm against the beating hooves. The first few stars on night could be seen on the horizon accompanied by the waning moon, large and glowing. She could hear the calls of evening birds above her and smell the fresh earthy scents mingle with the scent of horse. He suddenly leapt a tree trunk or maybe a ditch which she was unprepared for a lost her footing in one stirrup and slid to one side but managed to right herself quickly. She was unafraid of falling, it was an occupational hazard when working with horses.

It reminded of her of a time when the stable owner had allowed her and the other grooms to exercise the horses in the nearby national park. The four of them had flown across the green hills laughing and smiling, the horses kicking up and prancing in the sunlight. What a feeling it was!

Moments later the horse abruptly stopped next to a half broken tree beside a small brook, she could hear the running water on her right. Kilmeny gave him a pat and squinted, seeing nothing but shadows.

"Hello?" she called. Soon after a voice to her left murmured a weakly back.

"Here."

With shaking fingers, Kilmeny took the Samsung phone from her pocket and turned the screen around to use as a torch in the darkness. After pointing it in the general direction of the voice she found a figure slumped on the floor against the tree stump. Pointed ears poked out through her half tied up hair. She nearly dropped the device in shock at the slight of red blood.

"My god! Don't move, ok? I'll get help."

The elf raised a hand towards her as she tried to remount the horse. "I'll be well enough, help me up?" she muttered.

Kilmeny instantly fell to the ground beside the injured elf, unsure of what to do without causing her more pain. The elf was holding her upper thigh with blood dripping through her fingers, a bloodied arrow lay on the floor a few feet away.

"You pulled it out?" Kilmeny screeched earning a bed-panned look from the she elf.

"Yes," she hissed.

"How?" she began but quickly shook her head. _Hunting accidents happened all the time. The night grew in quickly tonight, it would be easy to get separated or hit by a stray arrow in the dark._ Kilmeny moved to offer her a hand. "Can you stand?"

The elf shuffled around and attempted to use her good leg and arms to push herself upright only to crumple back to the floor with a string of inhuman curses.

Kilmeny helped her shift the weight off her leg. The elf called out to the animal and extended her hand to gently touch his nose. She spoke swiftly in elvish, a musical sentence that the horse seemed to understand. He fell to his knees before her so that the elf could grab the scruff of his mane. Kilmeny helped her to pull herself into the saddle with great effort until she was seated awkwardly slumped over the horse's neck. The elf was whispering gentle nothings to the horse through clenched teeth. Her leg wound brushing against the saddle every now and then. Kilmeny then took hold of the reins and quickly led them back towards the house.

"I owe you my thanks, Firiel. And my life it seems."

"Don't exaggerate, you'll be well in no time." She grinned up, flashing the light her way, blinding the elf. "Sorry. Wait a minute, what did you call me again?" she started at the name, seeing flashes of her dream before her eyes.

"Sorry, it is just a name. It means Maiden-of-the-Earth in sindarin," the elf said as if trying to talk through the pain as a distraction. "It is easy to forget sometimes that we are different races, for the lines often blur and merge into one, my tongue sometimes slips to my first language."

"It is a beautiful sound, speaking like that," she remarked to the air whilst trying to manoeuvre the animals over a small stream without jarring her companion's leg. "We are almost there, I can see the garden lanterns." She turned her head to look back. "This horse must love you quite a lot. What is his name?"

The elf smiled fondly, "He is called _Beinion _for he is a handsome boy, and he knows it too. Lord Thranduil allows me to ride him every visit. He is a special friend of mine." She gasped suddenly and muttered a phrase that sounded like a curse if ever she heard one, her face contorting in pain.

"Sorry," Kilmeny whispered, pressing on faster than before. "My name's Kilmeny by the way, and you?"

"_Melda_, but you may call me Mel if you like."

"Mel it is," she smiled over her shoulder. "Funny way to meet, huh?" Mel chuckled in reply.

The light from her screen flickered. _Oh no._

"Uh! Stupid, stupid piece of technology!" she growled to the phone as the dead battery sign flashed once and then disappeared into a blank, dark screen leaving them in darkness. The horse chuffed and stopped suddenly, pacing on the stop causing Mel's leg to jar.

"Ah!" she gasped. "_Mellon nin, gwaem_!" But the horse did nothing. Kilmeny could see nothing except for faint lights in the distance. Yet the horse refused to budge, digging his feet into the ground as Kilmeny tried to coax him forward. They were so close to safety yet so far away at the same time. Mel had given up, choosing to slouch over Beinion's neck, her breathing light and quick. But Kilmeny refused to let one horse get the best of her, she eyed him placing a hand on her hip and groaning.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark! You brought me to your rider without any trouble," she grumbled to him. The horse flattened his ears and snorted as if to say; 'it's easy for you to say!'

The mumble of voices behind her caused Kilmeny to turn her head and the horse to cry out suddenly. Flashes of light pierced the trees accompanied by several dark figures calling out in both Elvish and English. One in particular brought a smile of relief to her face.

"Eric, over here!" It was a habit now to call him by that name even though the name clearly did not suit him as well as the elven one. "We're over here!"

The shadowy figure grew closer, scaling the small hill to where there were with ease. The torch light blinded her for a moment, making her blink to push the spots of light back. Then there were arms around her, almost crushing her rib cage with the sudden force and leaving her no choice but to drop the phone and grab the upper arms of the figure. Elrohir leant back so she could see his face, almost white in the light.

"You should not have left the house."

All relief she felt for seeing her friend left the second the words left his lips, replaced with agitation. She watched frowning as he looked up to Melda and patted her shoulder, speaking quickly. She nodded and replied something that sounded like an apology. A hand belonging to a member of the hunting party reached out and took Beinion's reins from Kilmeny's grasp. Elrohir led her back towards the house in silence yet all then while his hand did not leave her back, guiding her forwards. She felt a great deal of disappointment, that nothing she could do was good enough for anyone on the estate. But his hand on her back, his thumb brushing against her spine every now and then, did not fail to bring a flush to her cheeks and neck.

* * *

Back at the house, Melda was quickly taken inside and her horse led to the stables where the rest of his friends waited after the hunting trip. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed 8 times, thought here were many who had ignored it. Elrohir continued to guide her through the quiet halls and past the dining room which was filled with guests and pleasant smells. He took her inside one of the smaller sitting rooms round the back of the house that faced out onto the woodland, refusing to make eye contact with her as he took two cups from the tray of refreshments by the window. She sat down on the red sofa, slouching low and waiting for the lecturing to begin. But none came.

He placed the hot cup of tea her hands and took the seat next to her, his head facing his boots. She noted he was still wearing his riding clothes that were smudged with mud. There was a thin scratch on his cheek most likely caused by a low branch. She took a slow sip from the drink, feeling the warm hit her stomach. Trying to drink quietly in a silent room seemed impossible.

"Do you try to make me react to you, I wonder?" He spoke after an age of silence, yet he still did not look her way. Her head whipped towards him, frowning.

"I don't understand." She grasped the china cup a little tighter in her hands.

"I am old, Kilmeny, and being around mortals makes me feel the ages I have seen as if they are sitting on my back, weighing me down. And yet when I'm around you I can still remember what it felt like to be young, to be free, making the years wash away." He stared into the dark tea, cupping it in his hands. "But you always appeared to expect something from me, be it a reprimand, a laugh, a tear. And strangely I find myself waiting with anticipation to please you, _mellon_."

Kilmeny found a smile work its way onto her face and her hand reaching out to touch his.

"You're being very sweet, it makes me feel that a lecturing is on its way."

He made an amused expression accompanied by a small noise, only then did he turn his head to look at her. She fr0wned when she saw his mouth frown and the sparkle leave his eyes. There were moments during their time together studying in London when he would show that expression, often when he spoke of history or a friend far away.

"I'm sorry it I made you worry," she said. "I didn't mean to cause any more trouble, honestly."

"I know." He straightened himself and placed the still full cup on the side table. "But you did all the same." She opened her mouth to say something but the words died on her tongue. There was something in his expression that made him seem far away, searching within his mind for something. After a few moments past he continued. "I dreamt last night that you had one far from me and everyone you knew, but no matter how fast I ran you were one step ahead, fading into the dying light of the sun." His eyes glazed over, turning to dull blue coins. "When I returned from the hunt to find you gone and one of the spare horses missing I …"

"A horse was missing?" she interrupted, catching his attention, although her mind was thinking back to her own dream and the strangeness of it.

"Yes," he gave a brief but tight smile. "It's seems Melda was as eager to join the hunt as you, perhaps even more so. She was supposed to stay with the others and rest after her accident, but now she has even more reason to stay indoors. She was lucky that you were brave enough to venture after her."

"Oh." Kilmeny felt a little better at not being the only one at fault. Melda had seen so keen to go out into the woods with her horse, she clearing loved the thrill of the race. But her haste to catch up to the hunting party had caused her injuring from a stray arrow.

His fingers worked their way into her hair, pulling her towards him so that he could rest his forehead against hers. She froze, jerking at the sudden contact but he refused to let her pull away.

"_Goheno nin, n'uir thiad gîn 'ell_," he whispered. She didn't understand the words but somehow felt comfort in them and smiled.

"Silly elf."

They both jumped back to the present as the door opened abruptly behind them to reveal a small party with Thranduil at the head.

* * *

_**The dream is based on a poem from Tolkien's 'Tales from the Perilous realm' name 'The Last Ship', one of my favourites.**_

_**Elvishness:**_

_Firiel – human maiden_

_Mellon nin, gwaem – my friend, let's go!_

_Goheno nin, n'uir thiad gîn 'ell – forgive me, ever your presence is a joy._


	7. Chapter 6

**_Thank you all for your comments so far :) I'm quite enjoying writing this one. I was thinking of doing a one-shot to accompany this of Thranduil and Elrohir's argument in Lothlorien including cream pudding! _**

**_Enjoy folks! _**

**_~ Chapter 6 ~_**

_Where I, far or near,_  
_might find_  
_one in the mead hall who_  
_knew my people,_  
_or wished to console_  
_the friendless one, me,_  
_entertain with delights._

* * *

Kilmeny leapt away from Elrohir, shuffling to the opposite end of the seat as the group marched into the room. All she noted were smiling or at least trying to except for the blond elf lord whom she was sure had long since lost the ability.

"Still in one, little one?" Elladan spoke. He approached her first placing a hand on her shoulder briefly before turning to his brother. The twins said nothing to each other but exchanged a knowing glance.

"I'm glad you're alright, lass." Christopher took the seat opposite them, pausing as past between them to get to the refreshment tray. She smiled back. Haldir and an older women had also entered, she recognised the woman as the doctor who had attended to Melda's leg. They were talking quietly in the door way apparently observing the situation before deciding that there was no need for them there and left still chatting. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Kilmeny with the three elves and one man for company.

Elrohir and his brother had turned away from her, speaking softly in their tongue. Their tone sounded agitated in places and in others solemn. Christopher too stood and made himself a cup of coffee by the strong smell as she sat sipping at her cup.

"Were my instructions unclear in anyway?" The room turned quiet, all eyes focused on the elf facing the window, a glass of red wine in his right hand, the other gripped the window ledge. Kilmeny started at his outburst. She had been wary about him when he entered the room almost too quietly, she had expected him to walk in screaming and throwing orders her way, but there was nothing. Until then.

He turned his head slowly, a bright eye catching hers. Everything about his stance, his demeanour radiated the power and strength of a once king.

"Speak, girl."

She almost dropped her tea as he spoke, hating how he managed to make her feel such fear in his presence.

"No, my lord," she whispered.

"Then why did you choose to disobey them?"

She averted her eyes to Christopher's brown boots splashed with mud. When she did not answer the elf lord took slow steps, each boot hitting the floorboards with a quiet click. As he stopped in front of her she still refused to raise her head, mouth set in a stubborn line trying to hold her tongue from saying anything that might incriminate her.

"No harm came of it." Elrohir broke the silence, drawing Thranduil's gaze from her, relieving her of his terribly cold aura that threatened to make her shiver. "In the end she caused no ill, I'm sure we should be grateful that she had the courage to follow her instincts."

"It would have been hours, even with so many of us searching, before help wold have found her. With a wound like that …" Elladan shook his head. Indeed, the arrow had pierced an artery in her thigh and if left to long in the cold without treatment she might have never been able to walk properly again. Both brothers stood watching, one trying to hide the sneer that threatened to spring to his face.

"I am well aware. But I cannot ignore that fact that one so new to our ways believes she can do and go as she pleases in my house. Disobedience can be fatal for soldiers, why should this be any different?" The malice in his words cut through her like a knife, making her cringe as he turned back to the window. "Though time passes and the land changes, we in our ways will endure until the end of days… or until mankind no longer cares to see past his own nose."

"_Dôl gîn lost_," Elorhir murmured under his breath yet for the keen ears of a blond elf it was as clear as a shout in an echoing room. He turned sharply on the twins meeting his ear. The tension in the air seemed to grow thicker.

"Thranduil," Christopher interrupted, flashing a tight smile to his elder. "Kilmeny isn't used to us yet, it'd be unfair to judge her character so soon. Just give her time to settle in and learn before pouncing on her flaws. I'm she wouldn't have gone against you if she felt the situation wasn't serious, am I right?" Kilmeny nodded quickly in agreement earning a bright smile from the man. "And now I think it's time for supper and bed, we have a lot to go through tomorrow!"

At the mention of food her stomach gave a loud gurgle. She blushed red and held her stomach in the hopes of calming it. Christopher chuckled lightly as he passed, blowing his head towards Thranduil and clapping a hand on Elrohir's shoulder. The blond elf had turned back to look out of the window in a dismissive gesture. The twins tapped her shoulder and began guiding her towards the open door. But before she left Kilmeny turned to face the board back of the elven king.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble."

He made no sign that he had heard her. Frowning, she left him behind the closed door and hurried after the twins down the corridor.

There were still some people left in the drawing rooms and the library as they past but the dining room was now in darkness with the delicious food from earlier all gone. Elladan gestured towards the kitchen where they found Vanessa and some others cleaning up the mess from cooking.

"Darling Vanya, how lovely hair is this evening!" He cried, smiling charmingly to the cook who turned to him with a look and hand on her hips.

"The only time you address me by my elven name is when you want something, Son of Elrond!" She pointed her freshly washed ladle at him. He raised both hands in the air in surrender and chuckled.

"You catch me red handed sweet lady -"

"Enough of your grovelling," she truend back to her washing and gestured to the stove. "There's some stew left in the pot, still warm, and bread on the table. Just you remember to give the largest portion to Miss Lance!" She stopped Elladan from creeping towards the large fridge with a stern look. "Poor thing needs the energy more than you."

"Aye, aye ma'am!"

Kilmeny sat at the table in the seat opposite Elrohir who winked at her. He leant back to tug at the hem of Elladan's shirt.

"Hurry up, brother, we're starving!" he was swatted away and a few playful phrases thrown his way to which he laughed and answered back.

"I wish I could speak sindiren, no sorry, _sindarin_!" she sighed. Elladan placed a bowl of steaming stew in front of her and Elrohir before taking the empty seat next to her and a chunk of fresh bread form the table.

"All in good time." Elrohir mumbled through his munching to which he earned and remark from his brother. She laughed, feeling better than earlier and quickly tucked into her meal. It was an incredible taste, mingled with spices and large juices of juicy meat and vegetables. They ate in comfortable silence in the kitchen and then thanked Vanessa and wished her goodnight before leaving. The twins escorted her as far as the corridor which led to the bedrooms and parted.

She found sleep quickly, barely feeling the soft pillow under the head as her eyes closed and she fell into a dreamless reverie.

* * *

The next morning, Kilmeny found herself in the dining room staring up at the fresco on the ceiling. The image painted in soft colours depicted a green woodland dotted with tiny golden flowers that she couldn't name, a large stag filled the centre rearing onto his hind legs. The work of art was beautiful, almost so that she nearly forgot all about her conversation with Christopher's wife, Alice. She was a pleasant woman with a loud voice, but she had far too much of an interest in gossip for Kilmeny to follow the conversation smoothly. From the moment she left her room in search of breakfast she had been pounced on by various company members all too willing to offer her their business cards and inquire about her interests. It was only when she managed to reach the dining room and find the laughing woman that she received some rest.

" – heard your husband's horse won the Shahzada Endurance test this year. What a relief that must have been for you," the man next to her spoke across the Alice.

"O'yes! It nearly broke Chris' heart when _Golden Flare_ refused to run in the warm-ups. He was planning on using him for stud soon as well," she answered.

"_Golden Flare_? But isn't he owned by the Hale family?" Kilmeny turned to the woman in confusion. The horse mentioned she knew was a from a world famous family of horse trainers. There was not a single person in the equine industry who had not heard of the Hale name. Anyone who wished to be anyone owned a horse from their breeding lines.

Alice gave her a queer look. "Of course, he isn't going anywhere any time soon I can tell you. Chris would've my head!" _Christopher, why did the name ring a sudden bell?_ She wondered. Then it came to her with a gasp.

"You mean to tell me that Christopher is _the _Christopher Hale, one of the best horse breeders in the world?" Her eyes widened and she moved herself a little close to the grinning woman. Alice gave a hearty laugh.

"I was surprised a horse loving lass like yourself didn't recognise me sooner," the mentioned man said with a slight chuckle, startling Kilmeny as he passed with a plate laden with food.

"I would have if I wasn't bombarded with papers and elves the other day!" she said over to him as he took the chair next to his wife. "I can't believe my luck at meeting you. Tell me everything you know!" She pleaded, eyes shining. Such an opportunity was not to be missed. He laughed.

"Easy, lass. Just eat your breakfast and then talk. But you better make it fast, business starts at ten."

Kilmeny looked down at her untouched bowl of fruit and yoghurt and hungrily attacked it, her hunger no longer forgotten. A little while after, just as she pushed her empty bowl away from her, two blond figures caught her line of sight. Haldir and Thranduil were walking past the dining room deep in conversation. Chris motioned for her to stand and follow the small crowd of others following in tow, all the while she grumbled to herself. She could see his long silvery locks ahead of her braid-less and moving with his steps.

"How is it possible for one man, or elf, to look so yet terrifying at the same time?" she frowned. Christopher wlaked a step ahead, turned to look over his shoulder at her.

"Must be due to his Sylvan blood. But out of all the elves I have met he was the only one that carried such a presence with him. Who else do you think could have inspired Goethe to write _Der Erlkönig_?"

"That means The _Elven King_ in German, right?" She paused to remember the poem she had once studied in her literature class, from what she knew it was a dark poem about a father and son fleeing the Black Woods whilst being pursued by the Elf king and his daughters. "You're kidding me!" They entered the familiar library that was illuminated by the large windows letting in bright sunlight. Haldir had apparently overheard there conversation and took the seat at the table beside her.

"I wish he was," he said and passed her a black folder embossed with the symbol of the three leaf design of the Athelas Company. "That particular poem has long been a thorn in his side, it would be best not to mention it in his presence."

"That bad, huh?" Haldir gave a tight smile in reply. "What's with all the ruckus today, is something happening?"

"Ah, the annual feast is being held tonight, known as the Gathering, an event everyone looks forward to and a light reprieve from the stoic business of the corporation. During the occasion we dress up in a given theme chosen by the elders and eat and dance until the morning comes."

"Sounds like quite a party," she grinned and received a polite smile from the elf. Someone coughed catching their attention, urging them to begin the meeting.

Kilmeny made sure to pay attention to every little detail this time around, from the names of people in charge of wine exports to the dates of the next produce exhibition in Paris. She even went as far to question a man about possible solutions concerning archiving problem, though she kept her head low on the matter so as not to irritate the blond elf lord who remained scowling at her throughout. The man thanked her, blinking in surprise at her assistance. She was glad to make a good impression at long last and breathed a sigh of relief when the meeting was closed.

Christopher pulled her aside when she went to follow after the twins for lunch.

"I was hoping to speak with you briefly before the next part."

"Um, ok. What is it?" she asked. He rubbed his neck and chin in thought before breathing out loudly.

"I have talked things through with Thranduil earlier and we agree that it would be best to place you with someone who can help you get a grasp of things. And when you've found your feet you can decide what you wish to do. Sound reasonable?" She nodded, feeling happier at not being pushed into the deep end alone.

"Ok, so what will I be doing? Do I get a choice?"

"I don't think you'll mind the work somehow. At first we talked about sending you to New Zealand with Elrohir and Elladan but they already have so much on their plates, lass. It wouldn't be fair." He shrugged and turned to exit the library with Kilmeny in tow. "So, in the end, I'm afraid you got stuck with me."

It took a moment for the disappointment at missing a trip to New Zealand to pass and allow her to soak in the information. When it did she gasped, freezing on the spot.

"You mean? I-I get to work with you? At your ranch? With horses!" the laugh he gave her at expression could only be described as a bear's laugh, for it was from deep down in his stomach. "Don't laugh, I'm being serious here!"

"So you're that eager huh? Good to know, lass." He grinned and ruffled her hair. She pushed his hand away before he did any more damage to her hard work and tried to stop herself from dancing up and down on the spot. _Oh, Mum, Dad, if you only knew!_

"Thank you, thank you!" she giggled. "I promise I'll be a good student."

"I'm sure you will, after all, I have high hopes on a lass who can leap onto a mad horse's back without batting an eyelid."

"Kilmeny." A voice called out from the opposite end of the corridor startling them both. Much to her disappointment Thranduil stood by a doorway staring at them with indifference. "Come with me." He then moved through an open doorway to the left, apparently expecting her to follow his command without question or diversion.

She exchanged a worried glance with Christopher who said nothing but a simple 'good luck' and left her standing in the corridor. Trying to coax her feet to cooperate was a very difficult matter but decided against her worries that it was better to face him sooner rather than later. She peered around the doorway that opened into a large and grand cream and deep green room with tall windows. There was a piano at one end and several green pieces of furniture a similar colour to the ivy patterned rug surrounding it.

Thranduil stood with his back to her gesturing with a flick of his wrist for Galion and his helper to bring a box from a large pile on the floor. He was already searching the contents of a chest on the table but lost interested and moved onto the next. Kilmeny moved a little loser with uncertain steps towards him.

"You wished to see me?"

He turned for a moment and then went back to pawing through the chest.

"Yes." She stepped closer still until she was a foot anyway from the table, looking at the various chests and wooden boxes covered in dust. She could see mixture of coloured fabrics, both old and new, poking out of the linen cloth wrappings. "As you most likely have heard tonight there will be a feast. Am I correct in assuming that you have nothing suitable to wear?"

"Haldir did mention something about it being themed, so probably not."

"Indeed. The theme for this year happens to be late medieval style, something we have aplenty of." He pulled out a red piece of cloth and appeared to study it for a moment. "The women who wore these was roughly your shape if not a little shorter but something should do." He discarded the outfit and gestured for someone to pass him a light blue piece. "As my guest it is my duty as host to see to your comfort… and appearance. As a member of the circle of directors it is paramount that you appear as one, events such as this call for etiquette and above all else finesse."

Kilmeny nearly huffed at the implied insult but chose to ignore it in favour of searching the nearest box, finding plenty of plaited belts and small ball-slippers.

"Please, it really isn't -" she began weakly but was stopped by a look from the elf.

"Whether you agree or not, you are the daughter of princes and earls. You should be proud if not for your elders then out of respect for your family, and dress according to your station."

"Now that is something I would expect from elven royalty." She rolled her eyes and continued to rummage through the chest and found her fingers touch something smooth and soft. The dress she pulled out was in two pieces, one a deep red colour and the other a light cream that was thinner to the touch than the former. The bodice of the burgundy piece was held together by lattice work strings at the back but what caught her eye was the small and delicate embroidery of gold flowers and leaves on the shoulders that fell over the fabric in small waves to the elbow. It was certainly 'elegant' if not retaining the 'finesse' he deemed so important. "What about this?" she asked, admiring the outfit with a gleam in her eye.

Upon turning to look for his approval she found him staring not at the dress but at herself with a look of such sadness, far away and aged. Kilmeny held the fabric closer to her body and thought that maybe she had picked up something _too old_ for her to suggest. After all, she'd most likely trip and break her neck on the long under skirt, ruining the dress and her pride.

"Perhaps not."

"No," he said quickly, moving over to her in two strides. He took the cloth with as much care as is it were a baby bird from her hands and ran a thumb over the flowers. She felt the need to touch his hand and tell him to come back from whatever place his mind had wondered to but bit her tongue. "It is fitting," he said after several moments and placed it carefully on the table. "In that chest you should find a pair of slippers."

Without having to be told twice she quickly rummaged to the bottom of the chest and found the items, laying them beside the dress.

"Won't this be rather warm, it's summer now after all?" she asked, fingering the thick over dress made of wool. He stood beside her and smooth the fabric out upon the table until it was flat.

"You would be surprised. This particular piece was created for banquet on the summer solstice. The lady who wore it was rather fond of dancing." For the first time Kilmeny saw the elf smile genuinely, the light reaching even the depths of his eyes. It wasn't an unpleasant sight at all and she smiled back, happy to feel she was making progress, either that or the person he saw before him was not her.

After a breath though he broke away stony-face once more and sent her away with her the most expensive and precious outfit she had ever worn.

* * *

In the music room, Thranduil could not help but chuckle at the coincidence of the turn of events. He wondered if she would approve of his decision to let her wear a garment that had not seen the light of day since the day before her wedding. He watched as Galion and his the other elf placed the clothes back into their original boxes and arranged them neatly to go back into storage.

_Perhaps_, he thought with a small frown, _it is time to test the strength of her blood._

* * *

**_There will be a picture of Kilmeny's dress on my profile soon! Go take a look_**

**_Elvishness!_**

Dôl gîn lost – your head is empty.


	8. Chapter 7

_**~ Chapter 7 ~**_

_He remembers hall-warriors_  
_and the giving of treasure._  
_How in his youth his lord_  
_accustomed him_  
_to the feasting._  
_All joy has died!_

* * *

"Are you being serious about this?" Kilmeny inquired, eying the twins' latest creation with a sceptic's eye.

"I do believe that the wine has gone to your heads already," Erestor, who had been passing by the kitchen only to see through the window, said with a shake of his head. "But I can see there is no stopping the two of you." And with that he turned and left back towards the busy house.

She glanced around at the garden that had been decorated to the nines with spring flowers and unlit torches encircled the area, leaving the great oak tree to be highlight by the fading sun. It was all in preparation for the feasting that would begin when the sun had gone from the sky. It was quiet outside, with most of the visitors choosing either to relax with a drink before the festivities or return to their rooms to prepare the outfits. But Kilmeny had been dragged from her own room, where she had been fawning over the dress given to her by Thranduil, to the courtyard by Elrohir.

"It that all you have to say about my ingenious idea? Really! And after all the hard work I've put into this." He said, placing a hand to his chest as if he had been wounded. Kilmeny looked back to the large flagon of wine he had stolen with the help of his brother from under Galion's nose, the two of them sitting in their hiding spot in a secluded area to the side of the barn. Elladan was happily drinking from his tankard whilst Elrohir offered her a seat and a glass of deep red liquid.

"Uh, no thanks."

"Come on, spoil-sport! You were like this in London as well. Why not try some?"

"I told you before, I'm not very keen on alcohol. It tastes funny and makes my throat dry." She made a face as he quickly down the lot.

"Leave the poor girl be," his brother chuckled. "Just because you want to be drunk before the moon is high doesn't mean you have to drag everyone else along with you."

Elrohir grinned, placing down the empty cup in favour of playing with a piece of straw.

"I don't see you complaining, drinking all my hard work."

"That is because, dear brother, old Thranduil has an excellent nose for wine!"

"Ah, that is true! So true in fact that I'm now in a mind not to share with either of you," he said reaching to snatch the tankard from his brother's hand. Elladan made a noise of protest and slapped him upside the head.

"I'll leave you to it," she sighed deeply and all but stomped back to her room, ignoring Elrohir's pleas for her to stay. His brother watched the expression change on his face and began to frown. He had been listening and watching the situation since the two of them had met in dreary autumn in London three years ago. Only now did he feel a pang of jealousy towards the woman and a bout of sorrow for his brother.

"It will not last," he spoke quietly to the air. Elrohir refilled his cup and drank from it heavily, choosing to watch the birds skip from the treetops.

"Perhaps," he said. "But I cannot help but feel that it is too late for cold feet."

* * *

"_What brings thee to Castle Rochand, my lord?"_

"_The stars my lady, to gaze upon them once more before summer nights are upon us." _

"_Thou art strange, do not the stars linger forever in the heavens?" _

"_Aye, but many things seek to block their light and winter proves the best time to admire their beauty, do you not agree?" _

"_Tis so, yet they remain cold and distant to me, no matter the season." _

Thranduil blinked several times to clear his vision from the spot he had been standing in for a while, watching the merriment from a distance. His attention had long been removed from his guests and the idle chatter, even with Erestor for company the Gathering no longer interested him. Instead his mind flew to colder times miles away from Aqualate.

_Will you give me no peace, not even after an age?_ He sighed.

"Thranduil!" Haldir called as he approached the table facing the dancers. "Leo has been asking questions again regarding your retirement. The fool is trying to cause another uproar! I tell you I won't stand for him or his gangly son to push their noses in where they are so clearly unwanted!"

"Peace!" He raised his hand towards the elf, wishing not to hear anymore of business for the time being. It was true that there had been speculation as to his retirement from the position of director of Atehlas; many had tried to push him to take a ship westward feeling that his time on middle earth was at an end. Yet still he lingered. As he had once told Elrond _Peredhel _he would see that he kept his promise.

"You would have such men belittle us so?" Haldir's eyebrows crossed into a concerned expression, his frown grave. Thranduil threw him a glance whilst taking up his goblet.

"Ones such as us should not rise to the bait."

"Aye!" They heard a sudden exclamation come from the house. He turned to see what had caused such a disturbance and felt his blood run cold. A woman, dressed in burgundy red and gold stood laughing at the top of the garden admonishing one of the twins who was teasing her over something. Her hair was braided over her ears with thin laces of gold and cream making it shine and dance in the firelight, the simple twinkle of a gold pendant at the base of her throat. She stood beside Melda who leant against a crutch for support. The pair talked as they entered the area, moving towards the table opposite his where Christopher was exchanging pleasantries. She was given a warm welcome from the man and the watchful distance of the twins.

"The girl looks quite presentable!" Thranduil looked over to Haldir.

"You sound surprised, Haldir."

He said nothing as they watched the group walk towards the directors' table and take their seats facing the garden. The twins continued to argue and throw teasing words to their companion who would blush every time. His amusement rose when she growled and hit the nearest _peredhel _playfully.

"I would be careful to anger her, brother!" Elladan taunted to his brother who was casting a hurt look to Kilmeny. "Ladies are like swans, they glide along the river, soft and full of grace. Yet to one scorned or abused their anger is a dreadful force that sends even the stoutest of men scrambling for the trees."

"Hey!" Kilmeny chuckled.

"They are indeed, brother of mine, though you forgot to mention their loveliness."

She was way laid by passing guests wishing her a good evening so that by the time she went to take her seat it was gone, leaving the only remaining empty one beside Thranduil. He tensed upon realising, believing that the Valar were punishing him for some misdeed. He kept his eyes forward as she carefully approached the seat and curtsied somewhat clumsily before him and sat on the edge of her chair. The food was served soon after; roast pheasant and duck, a young buck that had been the bounty of the hunt roasted on a spit, there were fruits and salads and fresh bread accompanied by a variety of wines and ales. The table was full of talk and laughter, yet Kilmeny remained silent, unsure of what to say or do without causing offence.

By that time the twins were starting to become drunk, she had guessed that the wine was not purely human quality, and laughed whilst telling stories of times gone by. She chuckled into her hand but didn't comment. She would be sure to let them remember the events at a later date. Next to her Thranduil ate quietly, sometimes replying to Erestor who too was a silent eater. Kilmeny managed to steal glances at him, noting how he ironically seemed to shine in the darkness. She rolled her eyes. They were more different than she had thought after reading Tolkien's works. The historian had made the Elves seem all knowing, wise and untouchable, yet these (with the exception of the one beside her) were as friendly and sometimes clumsy as any human.

"Do you find something amusing?" Thranduil had asked, drawing her back to reality and her blushing at having been caught staring.

"Only the strangeness of the situation, my lord." She gave herself a mental pat on the back for her smooth reply. The king hummed to himself, taking a sip of wine.

"The night is still young, and I do not doubt that you will encounter stranger things still before it is over."

"May I ask you something?" He gave her a look that said – 'you already did'. She gulped. "Um, I was wondering on something you said, when we met. You said that not all the events in Tolkien's books were true, so what happened to Aragorn and Arwen's descendants? I haven't met anyone here or heard talk of them?"

"That bloodline has long been dead. Tolkien was correct in reporting the birth of their son, Eldarion, but he failed to mention that he died a young man leaving the throne to his steward."

"It's sad, to think it was all for nothing."

"There are more sorrowful things, but yes, after all the effort of preserving his bloodline I imagine some would feel more than disappointed." He finally looked to her, seeing her wide eyes soaking in the information.

"And Legolas? What became of him, I mean was he your..."

"Yes, he was my son." Thranduil said with a bite in his tone. Kilmeny noted to tread carefully on the subject. He frowned before continuing. "Legolas did indeed sail west in the end though, I am glad to say, he did not take the dwarf with him."

"I take it you're not found of them?" A look was all the answer she needed. She smiled and took another piece of apple from the centre. "So what happened to Mirkwood after the War of the Ring? I didn't think Sylvan's travelled west so-"

"Do you intend to interrogate me all night?" Thranduil watched her suddenly laugh, finding her humour strange, but was glad to see it.

"Only until I am satisfied that I know more about my host, my lord." He saw a familiar spark in her eyes and on the edge of her wavering smile and, for a moment, forgot where he was and who sat before him. Instead, he imagined he was in a dimly lit hall speaking with a friend from long, long ago.

* * *

**_(Sorry it's so short, more soon but I'm busy for the next week!)_**

**_Elvishness:_**

**_Peredhel – half-elven_**


End file.
